It is a real-deal northern Rhône roasted-slope Syrah that walks the tightrope perfectly between creamy fruit, meaty tannins, and fresh spine.

Like eating lemon curd at a party that Renoir might have painted—think something like Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette.

Most of this blanc was aged in tank to preserve freshness, but the little bit that was aged in oak provides a glimmer of opulence.

Elegance and restraint from one of the hill’s lesser-known terroirs.

Hailing from a single vineyard high up on the hill above Saint-Désirat, at the middle point of the Saint-Joseph appellation, this cuvée dials up the fragrance and elegance of Monier-Pérreol’s Saint-Joseph.

I would say that Faury does not make Viognier, but rather one hell of a Condrieu, replete with huge apricot and peach aromas and a fresh, regal palate.

Amid the lush fruit runs a delicate current of minerality that lingers on the tongue, as if the wine cascaded down a granite slope on its way into your glass.

This cuvée is sourced exclusively from the Fongeant lieu-dit, which sits right on the border of the Côte Blonde and Côte Brune, and is renowned for sharing the best of both.

From high-altitude slopes above the Rhône river, this Syrah exhibits remarkable purity and grace.

From the classic aromas of graphite, black fruit, and roasted spice, to the total finesse of its tannins, this is Côte-Rôtie at its best.